


Say Please

by lilsmartass



Category: Star Trek (2009), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Kirkcest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-18
Updated: 2012-09-18
Packaged: 2017-11-14 13:05:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/515530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilsmartass/pseuds/lilsmartass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk knows everything about himself, including that dark fantasy he could never admit to anyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say Please

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not mine, considering what I put them through, probably for the best.  
> Warning/Spoilers: Sexual content, slash, Kirk-cest  
> Pairing: Reboot!Jim/TOS!Kirk   
> Genre: PWP, begging, slight BDSM themes

** Say Please **

Jim looked around the other him’s quarters with unabashed interest. This universe was weird; all block primary colours and weird monotonal beeping from the computers. And the Spock here made his head spin, because this was old Spock’s universe, but old Spock was here, was young. Not as young as the Spock Jim knew but...young. Not that he’d spent much time with this Spock. He’d been regarded by a steeply inclined Vulcan eyebrow and had several “Fascinatings,” said over him, and then Spock had hurried off to test god-knew-what about ion clouds, and alternate dimension transference in the science lab and Jim hadn’t seen him since. His other self, older, broader, with intense golden eyes had confined him to his own quarters in a friendly and almost apologetic sort of way, but Jim could tell that should he disobey that command he would find this other version just as ruthless as he himself could be. Still, he didn’t feel comfortable in the room. He had observed and catalogued all the items they owned in common and all that were different, but he didn’t dare touch anything; if their positions were reversed he would want that courtesy. And there were two _Enterprise_ teams working on the case, his own and this one. He’ll be back in his own world soon enough, he should take the opportunity of not being in command, being literally a non-person, surplus, to have a rest. But he does not want to get into his other self’s bed. That speaks of a familiarity he does not feel and does not want to presume.

The door whooshes open and the other Kirk enters. He is alone, and dishevelled from a hard day of Captaining, but his smile is warm and welcoming as he invites Jim to sit down, across from him and pulls the tiered chessboard towards him. “You play?”

Jim nods, once. This chess set is superior to the one he owns, though not so nice as the onyx and jade one his own Spock has which they customarily play with. He wonders where the other Kirk got it.

They play in silence for a while, but after a while the chess and wine Kirk is serving relax them both and they begin to talk, guardedly, about their pasts and universes, comparing what they can without breaking the temporal prime directives. It is late when Jim finally succumbs and yawns. “Tired Jim?” Kirk asks, taping his last pawn of their third game forward.

“A little,” Jim shrugs carelessly.

Kirk moves the chessboard aside and looks at his young counterpart. “We are very similar,” he says.

“Except I’m better looking,” returns Jim with a cocky grin.

“You are very attractive,” acknowledges Kirk, and the predatory edge to his voice sends fire licking through Jim’s belly. “And how many have ever really been able to give you what you want?”

“What? I-”

“I know you Jim. I _am_ you. I know what you crave, what you’ve never been able to bring yourself to ask for.”

“What?” the word is an insulting whisper, a challenge, uttered almost too low to be heard.

“You want to be brought to heel, to hear your own voice pleading for release, just to be denied and kept on the almost painful edge of pleasure until you think you would do anything to cum, until you would crawl if that’s what it took to make the man touching you believe he owned you enough to give a reward.”

The low voice, steadily spelling out the fantasy that only rarely will Jim admit even to himself, makes him rock hard in seconds. He feels himself flush lightly but doesn’t remove his eyes, “And you think you can do that to me?”

“I think I can,” Kirk’s voice is almost mocking. “I am you. I got the fantasy right didn’t I? I know what you want. I know how to give it to you. And who better than me? I am you, there’s no shame in showing that secret part of yourself to me, and Scotty and Spock’ll have you home in a few hours and you’ll never have to see me again.”

Jim swallows, and knows it is visible. He wants it. Wants it so much he can taste it. But, after this past year of Captaincy, of the need for iron control and no room for the minutest display of weakness, he falters. “I-” he starts dryly, with no idea what he intends to say.

“I’m the Captain here Jim, here you can be the weaker,” the golden voiced man says softly. And Jim is lost.

He nods again, voice gone and Kirk pulls him forward. Jim is heavy, weighed with muscle mass and he is not a small man, but he has not quite filled out as wide as he will and next to this older, muscular version of himself he is a gangly teenager to be easily manoeuvred. Kirk undresses him, lips and fingers unerringly skimming each sensitive spot on his body. He was hard before. Now, he is dizzy with need. Kirk conducts him down onto the bed, still mostly dressed himself and continues his assault across the smooth salty-sweat planes of Jim’s body. One hand wrapped tight about the base of his cock to keep him from cumming in the messy spurty stream he desires.

Jim whimpers, voiceless and low in his chest. “Say please,” the other Kirk whispers above him, and Jim screws his eyes shut, it is too hard, too confusing to look at the blurred not-quite-right version of his own face. He shakes his head, unsure even why he is resisting except that the core of his being knows no other option but to refuse to surrender. He wants this, he needs it, he craves it, but he still can’t beg. He doesn’t know how.

Kirk is unperturbed. He lowers his head once more and adds teeth to this second assault, alternating tauntingly soft kisses, with vicious bites that leave painful red marks and confuse Jim all the more as he squirms, simultaneously desiring more and less. The marks Kirk sooths with gentle laps of his tongue and that soft hot, talented tongue would be so good on his cock. Jim thrusts his hips up, arching his back, offering his throat and his belly like a dog in submission. Kirk kisses the hollow of his throat, the teeth he presses there just for a second only adding to the vulnerability and submission Jim feels curling through him and making his cock impossibly harder. He slides his second hand under Jim’s hips and brushes over his ass. “Say please,” he whispers again, low and soft, hot breath brushing over Jim’s ear.

Jim whines, high pitched and tilts his hips more, offering himself, begging as much as he is able but he can’t, he can’t, he can’t...The hand withdraws from his ass, Kirk’s head bows, preparing to repeat the process again, tongue flicking out to caress a painfully tightened nipple. “Please,” he whispers, whimpers. The weight of humiliating defeat sinking into his belly and adding pressure to the heavy need in his cock and tension in his balls.

“Good boy,” says Kirk, biting hard on the nub of flesh and eliciting a ragged cry from Jim. “Again.”

The dam has burst, the flood gates open, “Please, please, please, please,” whispers Jim, voice low. Broken.

“I should make you scream it, should make sure my whole crew knows that you went belly up like a bitch in heat for me.”

Jim’s whole body flushes; arousal, shame, he’s not sure he can tell the difference any longer. It’s all too bound up, one and the same, “Please, please,” he says, a fraction louder.

“Please what?”

Jim isn’t even sure, please touch me, please lick me, please let me cum, please don’t let anyone else know that I want this, please make me scream, all he can do is keep whispering the same word. “Please Kirk, please.”

Kirk topples him from the bed. He catches himself like a cat but exhausted, or mastered, he stays on all fours, head lowered, as Kirk unbuttons his own uniform pants. “Suck me.” The liquid voice is ragged too. The submission of this beautiful boy, the undeniable narcissistic enjoyment of fucking himself has taken its toll on the older Kirk too.

Jim lowers his head to the cock the exact same shade of rosy red as his own. His tongue automatically seeks out the spots that make Kirk gasp and fist his fingers in Jim’s tousled hair and if he wasn’t so scrambled by lust himself he’d feel proud of that, amused. As it is, he merely licks, almost slavishly, over the head of Kirk’s penis and down to his balls, earning the orgasm he knows he will die without.

Kirk is enjoying the boy’s mouth and he almost, almost leaves it too long, but at the last minute his consummate self control pulls him back and he pulls Jim up on the bed. “Hands and knees,” he orders roughly. Jim complies, tilting himself for Kirk’s inspection, face in the pillows muffling his voice. “Want to hear you,” the older Captain rasps, “Want to hear you begging for my cock with your ass in the air.”

The boy gives another broken sounding whimper and turns his head to the side. “Please,” he says, louder now, forgetful that someone else might hear him now what he wants is so close. “Please fuck me.”

Kirk had plans, had planned to hold Jim on the edge for much of the night, had planned to make him weep with desperation, but he can’t wait. He pushes into the boy’s unprepped ass in one slow, smooth glide. He stills for a moment, holding Jim’s shaking body through the initial shock, but Jim is almost ready to burst, and his confused nerves can no longer truly differentiate between pleasure and pain, feeling only need.

“Move,” Jim grates out, “I need, oh _please_ I need more.”

Kirk begins to move, a slow steady rocking pace at first that does little more than nudge Jim’s prostate, but as the boy becomes used to his size he begins thrusting in and out, rubbing mercilessly over him, one hand still wrapped tightly around Jim to keep him from cumming.

He wishes he could see Jim’s face, wonders if it is as wrecked as his voice as this baby version of himself keeps stuttering out “Please, god let me- just please, please,” he lifts one hand from the bed to bat ineffectually at Kirk’s hand, trying to free his cock.

“I could r-ride you like this, over and over again and n-never let you finish,” Kirk hisses into his back, voice breaking as he grits his teeth against his own impending orgasm.

“No, _don’t_ please, I need to, I need- _please_ ,” and that’s it. Kirk’s restraint is done. He let’s go of Jim, grabs his hips in a punishing grip and slams himself in and out once, twice, thrice. He’s reasonably certain Jim came as soon as his hand was removed. Either way, mere seconds later they are both shuddering and panting their way through breathtaking orgasms. When the aftershocks have passed and Kirk feels less like a wrung out sponge he opens his eyes to find Jim, wriggled out from under him, propped on one elbow and watching him. He grins a sleepy, lazy, sunny grin, “Good?”

The boy breathes a shuddering breath. “Yeah, good.”

“Good, because I need half an hour to recover then it’s my turn.” Jim’s lips part in confusion and Kirk smiles wider, even as his eyes slide closed. “There’s a reason I knew it was your fantasy,” Kirk says, “and I never have to see you again either. For once, I can let my guard down too.”


End file.
